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A Passion For Youth
CHAPTER ONEA light autumnal drizzle and a leaded October sky with scudding clouds greeted Doris Larson when she woke. She had left the bedroom window open slightly, and the cool air which blew through the crack rustled the flowers on the nightstand and rippled across the thin sheet which covered her. She stirred, frowning at first as she unconsciously tried to cover herself more then she slowly became fully awake and saw that the blanket was knotted at the foot of the bed. She glanced at the alarm clock beside her; it was six-twenty.Darn, she thought, rolling over. Another night of tossing and turning, another morning of waking up too early. . . Her first driver's education class wasn't until nine - she could have slept until nearly eight, dressed and had her morning cup of black coffee and still be at Poly Tech High School ready to teach with time to spare. Instead she once again was wide awake at too early an hour, as if she still had a husband to feed and see off to work. But I don't have Peter with me any longer, she thought miserably. I froze him out of my life, just like I'd freeze any man who loved me. .. who wanted to make love to me. ..Upset by her morbid thoughts, Doris kicked the sheet aside impatiently and stood up. She flounced her long, silky raven-black hair, yawning as she padded barefoot out of the small bedroom and to the kitchenette. She was wearing a rumpled pair of striped pajamas as she had every night since her divorce from Peter. Sleeping naked made her feel dirty somehow as though it was an immoral flaunting of her body; and a soft and filmy negligee reminded her too acutely that she was supposedly a woman underneath. A pair of baggy pajamas on the other hand, seemed appropriate to her; they completely covered her body with the same lack of sexuality as she felt inside herself.The kitchenette was a one-unit stove, refrigerator and sink, set in an alcove at the far side of the living room. She put a kettle of water on for coffee then lit her first menthol cigarette of the day. Inhaling the cool smoke, she turned and went to the large glass window which opened out onto her back patio. She stood there for a long moment with her arms folded across her breasts, knowing she was safe from prying eyes because of the six foot high redwood fence which encircled her small plot of land and terrace.The apartment in which she lived was only about three years old, a wood and brick "townhouse" type, one of eight all exactly alike that were lined up in a row. They were owned by the Cramers who lived next door to her, John Cramer being in the construction business. Doris liked her apartment for it was small enough for one person or a couple, quite private in its way and nicely decorated in the rustic woodsy idea of wood-paneled walls and beam ceilings. She had rented it unfurnished, moving in some of the furniture she'd gotten from the divorce settlement with Peter last year: Danish modern furniture, hand-rubbed walnut lamps and accessories, and some very fine framed prints. But somehow, no matter how hard she tried, the apartment remained sterile and cold to her. Perhaps, she thought as she shivered slightly before the window, it's because I'm that way inside and the apartment is a reflection of myself. .."Oh God," Doris whispered heavily and leaned her head against the cool glass. Every time she thought about Peter and her short, six month marriage to him, she could sense the icy chill in her chest growing. Instead of the womanly warmth that love should have brought her, she only had the frigid emptiness of fear and despair. There had been things wrong about Peter, as there were with any human being, but instinctively she realized that the blame for the marriage failing rested squarely on her shoulders. Or rather, she thought with a tight little grimace, the blame rested right down between her legs.. .The kettle began to whistle with escaping steam, breaking Doris's painful reverie. She hurried to the kitchenette where she stubbed out the cigarette and mixed herself a cup of instant coffee. She took the cup back to the bedroom and sat down on the dresser before going to the closet and selecting a pale green dress that was a little tight and short for her, she thought, but was a lovely woolen knit just perfect for autumn. Then she stepped around to the front of the bed where she could watch herself in the mirror beside the dresser as she opened the drawers and took out a clean pair of white nylon panties and a thin sheer bra. Straightening, she looked into the mirror and slowly unbuttoned the top of her pajamas, shrugging them free to fall to the floor. Naked from the waist up, her breasts firm and rising as she breathed, she slowly untied the drawstring of her pajama bottoms and watched as they gently slid down the full length of her long tapered legs. She stepped out of them and stared at all of her sleek nakedness in the glass, scanning with a critical eye the nude woman she saw reflected.Smiling kittenishly, she swept her hair away from her shoulders, raising her arms in a classic nude pose. Her white full breasts stretched taut, their dark-fleshed areolas making them perfect uptilted accents for her rounded, ridged nipples. Her eyes moved across the mirror's surface, slowly working down across the flat plane of her stomach and past the tiny outline of her navel, down to the black curly triangle of her pubic mound. The soft shiny curls of her pubic hair highlighted the tender pink flesh of her full vaginal lips beneath, and she could even see the tiny tip of her clitoris peeking out from the crested valley of her loins in almost childlike shyness.She pirouetted lightly, examining the dimpled roundness of her satin-skinned thighs and buttocks, the rippling muscles along the backs of her legs a gradual sensual curving of flesh. Her face went well with her body, a sort of pouty, flirtatious look about it with its small stubby nose and full ripe mouth and large hazel eyes. Now naked and disturbingly desirable, there was nothing to indicate her inner frigidity; she looked all woman, a totally sensual female."Here I am, a thirty-two year old teacher," she murmured under her breath. "I've still got a firm youthful body, but what good is it to me? I might as well be an ugly old hag. What's wrong with me?"She knew, deep down in her soul, she knew why she hadn't been able to respond to Peter the way a woman should even though she had loved him very much. It had been her mother, her puritanical mother and her conservative Southern upbringing. Her mother had had to explain the mysteries of sex to Doris when she began to menstruate and had tearfully run home thinking she was bleeding to death, and the teachings had consisted entirely of warnings about the bestiality of men. It was a man's world where women were playthings, good for nothing but chores and submitting to the disgusting animal-like desires which overcame a man's narrow mind. A woman had to endure and never allow herself to willingly serve in the evil filthy act of intercourse. Her mother, a devout woman, had instilled the quotations of St. Paul and St. Augustine to where, even now, Doris could recite the passages concerning the devil's love of flesh and the meaning of Original Sin.Peter had tried to explain to his fiance that her mother was wrong, but the damage had been done by the time he had come into her life. No matter how logical he'd been, he couldn't crack through her mother's teachings which had seeped down into Doris's subconscious and the control of her basic emotions. The result had been that she'd remained a virgin up to her wedding night, and if she'd had her way, would have continued to be the same afterwards. Love was pure; sex was dirty .. . and the two could never be joined."Be kind Peter . . . please be gentle with me," she remembered pleading that first night. And Peter had been gentle and loving with her. But in the double bed with him, her eyes had filled with tears, and when he had finally touched her breasts through the sheer transparency of her honeymoon nightgown, her whole body had shivered. She had shuddered almost convulsively as he'd slid the negligee from her and began caressing her full rounded breasts, making the tips of her dark nipples rise erect in answer to his sensuous stimulation. She recalled how his strong, sure hands had slid over her nakedness in the dark of their bedroom, making her skin quiver with little goose bumps until his fingers teased swiftly and softly over the curling silky hairs of her vaginal lips. His fingers had found their way to the pink tight wetness up between her softly clenching inner thighs, a place where no one except Doris herself had ever touched ...Now, looking at herself in the mirror, Doris fought to erase the memories which haunted her but without success. The painful recollections of her betrayal of her husband were too vividly seared in her mind to ever be forgotten. She trailed her eyes now down the flesh where Peter's hands had traveled that night and subsequent nights, and she remembered the unwanted sensations he had caused to ripple through her naked loins. Her mother's warnings about tiny electric shocks of pleasure had been too strong for her to overcome, and she'd lain frozen in fear that there was something wrong with her because she was becoming sexually aroused. And when her lawful husband had lowered his strong, muscular body between her unwilling thighs and probed her defenseless cringing virginal passage with his thick throbbing penis, Doris had been more terrified of the ever-present image of her domineering unapproving Victorian mother.His massive blunt cock-head had buffeted lightly against her hymen, easing its way into the undiscovered warmth of her soft pink vagina until she'd been able to feel the tight ring of her purity give way to the burning tip of his long thick penis. There had been pain, she recalled, but not like any pain she'd ever known before; it had been warm and more fulfilling than frightening, and she had involuntarily gasped with delight as she felt all of him slide hard up into her tight smooth vagina. But with the help of her mother's warnings, she had been able to fight away even the tiniest bit of excitement from her senses and had endured her new husband's lustful passion with hundreds of puritanical proverbs she had become infused with over the years. She had recited them silently, her eyes squeezed shut and her lips bared back over her tightly clenched teeth, praying she wouldn't weaken.Peter's breathing had become gasps, and she recalled now the contradicting emotions that had flooded her mind as his penis had flooded her vagina with great spurts of his hot white sperm. That was the only reason for allowing a man his way with her .. . for the children, she'd told herself over and over. Yet somewhere in the back recesses of her mind, excited nerve-endings had lewdly reveled in the spewing warmth of his semen as it had caressed the smooth rippling walls of her helplessly contracted vagina. That sudden uncontrollable spasm of delight had scared her breathless, and she had redoubled her promises to resist the slightest sign of prurient sexual pleasure for fear of becoming no better than a sluttish whore.The next few nights had been even worse no matter what Peter had done. Her inability to rid herself of her mother's image and actively enjoy his lovemaking had made her stiff and rejecting until she was almost driven mad with guilt by his panting and thrusting and surging spasms of orgasm. Doris's guilt about her first night in bed with her husband and her mother's constant advice from the past had even made talking of their problems impossible. The months passed in hellish agony for her and she had lain awake at night, listening to Peter toss and turn in his frustrated attempt to make himself comfortable in a bed that had a thousand miles of space between them. Even during the day life had become almost unbearable for both of them; for Peter, because his wife's apparent repulsion to sex made him feel sexually inadequate for the first time in his life, and for Doris, because her own fears and frigidity had made her hostile not only to her husband, but to herself. Eventually, her consistent denial of sexual pleasure had reached the point of no return. Over breakfast, Peter had curtly and coldly said: "I want a divorce, you iceberg. Let me free so I can find a real woman ..."Tears began to blur her eyes as Doris remembered that horrid morning, and she stood before her naked reflection and fought to erase the memories but without success. Thinking of one recollection only made all of her nights with Peter that much more vivid in her imagination until she could almost see herself lying in bed once more with him. Unwillingly, she recalled the exciting sensations of his fingers on her tingling flesh, and her mind kept torturing herself with the memories of how good, in spite of her guilty feelings, he had felt when he'd pumped his lust-hardened penis up into her naked belly and emptied his boiling hot sperm into her tight unyielding vagina. Following her gaze in the mirror now, Doris watched as her own hands slowly rose from where they'd been clenched tightly at her hips and began sliding softly over the smooth, swelling flesh of her firm uplifted breasts. She cupped them lightly as Peter had done before, her fingers seeking out the two tiny sensitive nipples and gently massaging them to erection. Her mind was filled with the lurid remembrances of the passions she had so thoroughly denied herself, and she could feel a smoldering sensation begin to ripple through the soft folds of her involuntarily moistening vaginal lips. She recognized what was happening to her, knew that she was starting to submit to the only form of sexual release she had ever been able to allow herself to enjoy. As a little girl, prior to when the boys her age had developed sexually, and long before her mother had poisoned her mind to the joys of her body, Doris had learned the delightful art of masturbation.Her mother had never mentioned the lewd practice of self-stimulation, and Doris secretly suspected her of doing it herself. But that had no bearing on the delicious sensations that she had learned to secrete from her own flesh, and often as a budding girl and even later as a young woman, she had locked herself in her room and brought herself to spiraling climaxes. Alone, without the hindering presence of a man and his rigid penis, she could find satisfaction from the ever-present frustrations which would well up in her loins until she was almost crazy with her unwanted evil desire. Then by herself, knowing that she could safely let herself drift into the wonderful world of sexual ecstasy without fear or revulsion, she could dream of anything she wanted to . .. anything at all, no matter how erotic and lascivious the images were .. . and now she smiled softly to herself and let herself imagine that her fingers were Peter's, and he was bringing her to those wonderful spasms of orgasm .. . Yes ... Oh God, yes ... she could dreamily allow herself to submit to a man in a thousand delirious different ways... Yes ...Doris sighed softly as she watched her hands slide down from her throbbingly aroused breasts and over her long slender waist to lightly slip into the curling warmth of her black silken pubic hair. She shivered delightedly, feeling the tingling caresses as she insinuated her fingers through the soft pussy hair in search of the flushed-pink wetness of her eagerly pulsing vagina."Aaahhh," she moaned and she stepped back away from the erotic reflection of herself masturbating to lie on her back atop the bed. She spread out her legs, splaying her thighs wide so she could enjoy more of her tantalizing fingers. Her own heavy breathing was nothing like a man's harsh panting but soft and gentle like the hands she was sliding sensually back and forth between the hungrily quivering lips of her flushed pink cuntal slit. Again and again she mewled in rapidly building passion as her fingers worked faster and deeper into the moistening flesh of her arousal-widening cunt and over and around the swelling tender bud of her clitoris. Oh Goddd ...this is so wonderful so exciting . .. and in her mind, she could visualize her ex-husband's rigid cock again as he stood naked over her.. .It's so big, she thought luridly ... so very thick and big and hard ...Doris scissored her legs open until her feet dangled out on either side of the wide bed, and she could feel the warm air of the bedroom caress against the nakedly exposed narrow slit of her vagina. She drew her throbbing pink-fleshed cuntal lips further open with her fingertips, shivering in obscene delight as she dreamed about Peter possessing her instead of her hands. .. but still his cock was too large! Too much of a mans! Slowly, as her middle finger insinuated itself into the softly yielding flesh of her pussy, Doris's hotly aroused mind began to change the lewd vision in her head, altering it into a new more erotic dream whose very depravity stimulated her even more . . . now in her mind Peter's cock was becoming smaller .. . more slender . . . safer . .. until she could see his stiffened thrustings up between her warm wet welcoming thighs were with an erection the size of a young teenage boy's hardened penis!God! To dream of being fucked by a young boy! How wicked of her! And yet she had been dwelling on just such a lurid thought more and more since last month and the beginning of the school year. The image of Peter, her own fully mature husband, turning into a young eighteen year old adolescent boy had become increasingly frequent while she'd been masturbating, and God! It never failed to drive her right out of her mind! This way she could really give herself to a male, truly surrender her passions, for no longer did she have to fear a giant hardness. Ahhh ... With a groan of lascivious desire, she sank her middle finger deeply up into the moistened hungrily pulsating mouth of her cunt. She was a woman twice the age of her dream lover, but God, she could shut her eyes and clearly see that handsome, naked virile youth. And oooh, it was so exciting to her ... !His taut flat belly and hairless loins quivered expectantly as he arched over her spread-eagled body. Yes, yes, and now his slender hard cock was pressing against her eagerly awaiting inner thighs, and she was not afraid of him. . . Yes, ohh, yes, he was so innocent and naive, his undeveloped muscles straining from his newfound sexual prowess. . . Ohhh, and now he was trying to slip his young virile prick just up inside the warm straining lips of her vagina. Yes, she could see herself hungry for a boy like him, her inner thighs and buttock muscles urging him on as he slipped his hardened young penis deeper inside her cunt. She was seducing him, teaching him step by step all the things Peter had taught her as a big heavy male. ..The fire burned more intensely, demanding more to feed its lewd hunger. She inserted another finger, drawing her knees up to her breasts with her buttocks curved nakedly up off the bed. Her imagination could see the young boy surging into her with his immature desire, and she crammed her fingers into the moistness of her pussy in time to the maddening rhythm of the couple mentally fucking in her mind. God, how lewd! An innocent youth fucking a thirty-two year old woman! How utterly depraved! But ohhh! This was the wildest thought she had ever had!She could almost feel the boy fall flat upon her nakedly welcoming body, pressing her breasts flat and crushing the breath within her as his hard young cock soared up into her eagerly waiting cuntal passage. "Yes, darling sweet little Peter, milk me. . . milk me. . . The moving picture in her mind of their locked bodies drove her on, and she rocked against her fingers, fucking them deeper up into herself. She could mentally imagine his slender glistening penis pumping maddeningly into her own warmly clasping cunt, sinking through her soft pubic hair in his bursts of adolescent energy. Her fingers became his smaller fleshy male hardness, and oh God how she wanted it! How she wanted the real thing. Now! She instinctively knew in her wild throes of released passion that a boy wouldn't send her rigid with fear and loathing, and she could be fucked by him to her heart's content. Oh, how she wished Peter was here, maybe eighteen years of age, surging his own cum-filled prick deep up into her hot, searing passage. The fingers weren't enough as her thoughts centered on the slender young shaft that was ravishing her mentally. She had to have more, but there was nothing, nothing but her fingers.They were going to cum, the little boy and the older woman he was fucking in her mind. . . She felt herself taut, her eyes clenched tightly shut with her arousal, her cunt clenching around his youthfully lunging penis like fleshy lips around a child's all-day sucker. "You're going to make me cum. . . my precious darling boy . . . Ohhh, cum in me with your fresh young sperm . . . Ooohh, I want to feel you cum inside me while I cum toool"In desperation the masturbating teacher reached behind her nakedly upraised buttocks with her other hand, searching the passion-moistened crevice and then rammed a finger deep into the puckered anus between her moon-shaped buttocks. She gasped as in her haste a fingernail dug into the soft fleshy walls, sending a sharp jolt of pain through her helplessly quivering body. She stilled for a moment and then took up the rhythm of her self-stimulated fucking, her full white breasts jiggling sensuously as they swayed above her rapidly heaving chest. Electric tingles of darting pleasure raced through her nerves as she pictured herself under her dream lover's pounding teenaged body with his slim hard cock. Her face colored crimson as she felt her climax approaching - rushing through her with a great roar - she hung for a moment teetering on the edge of release, her whole naked body vibrating. . . "I'm cumming now!" she could hear a high-pitched boy's voice cry out in her mind. . . And then the white hot juices of her own orgasm gushed from around her hotly fucking fingers, covering her hand that was skewering up into her rectum and flowing down onto the mattress below. She could hear herself screaming with a piercing cry of joy . . . then there was utter silence.Doris stayed the way she was with her hands tightly pressed inside her cunt and anus. She couldn't bring herself to withdraw her fingers until the last dying throbs had stilled in her body. At last her fingers slithered wetly from her liquid drenched cunt, and she rolled limply over on her side. God, she had never felt so utterly drained in her life. She had truly been possessed by her lewd fantasies, thoroughly driven to new heights of obscene desire. But fantasy was one thing and reality another ... wasn't it?The older woman sighed and rose naked from her bed, her ivory-toned flesh gleaming wetly from the thin film of perspiration that had accompanied her masturbation. She felt vaguely frustrated for some unexplainable reason as if she was upset by the mere passing consideration that she could ever sink so low as to actually act out her dream. Imagining a young boy making love to her was a private little wickedness that didn't hurt a soul; to actually seduce a child would be the most depraved sin in the world! She could never really do that to one of her students!Doris suddenly shivered, pausing in her barefoot walk to the bathroom and a refreshing cleansing shower. Seduce one of her students. What in God's name had brought that to her mind? When she was thinking of a young boy while masturbating he was her husband Stuart as a teenager, not. .. not a boy from her high school! What a silly notion!But somehow, that slight sense of uneasiness wouldn't leave her, even as she dressed after her shower and left for Poly Tech High. It was as though her erotic fantasies were so salacious that as she continually dreamed of them, they grew increasingly strong and exciting in her mind. And perhaps just a little too tempting for her own good!CHAPTER TWODoris had been extremely fortunate in landing her job as Driver's Education teacher. It had been mostly a matter of circumstance - of being in the right place at the right time with the right qualifications - since there had been very few employment opportunities available in the suburban community at the time of her divorce.At first she had looked for a regular teaching position, since she had been a grade-school and kindergarten teacher before her marriage, but they had been filled the previous September, and not even a substitute job was open. Yet she liked Poly Tech, and since Peter had sold the house and moved to Los Angeles, she had decided to stay in the area. Thanks to her secretarial training, she'd eventually been hired by one of the larger local automobile agencies. It hadn't been to her liking, but it would do until she could become a teacher again. Then a state law had passed, giving aid to schools with driver's education courses; the insurance companies had followed suit by lowering under-25 driver rates by 15% if the course was passed; the School District had voted to add the program to their curriculum, and at the same time had voted the funds to buy the equipment; and finally, the auto agency she worked for had won the bid to supply the necessary car. Doris had been the typist who'd handled the paper work, and seeing a golden opportunity before her, had applied.The pay could have been better, she often thought. But then, she had the free use of the new car and didn't even have to buy her own insurance for it, and she didn't have any debts of her own to worry about. Living alone and not being the type to want to "go out" much, she was able to make ends meet quite well, with enough left over for an occasional movie or inexpensive restaurant dinner. And the best part about it was that she had the inside track on any future teaching position that might suddenly pop up. All in all, she was rather pleased with how things had been working out for her, and certainly the job itself was a breeze.Appleton, being the bedroom community for nearby Seaton, was overrun with eighteen-year-olds applying for learner permits. At eighteen, if they passed the state test, they could receive their driver's license, but because the program was new this year, some of the older students also wanted to attend. Not that they thought they needed it, she thought wryly; it was the savings in insurance costs which attracted them. There would always be a continual turn-over of new students and fresh faces each term, and as long as she didn't have an accident or something tragic like that, her job was secure.